


all we need is some rhythm to dare

by vestwearer



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: F/F, LGBTQ Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-19 08:41:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11894097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vestwearer/pseuds/vestwearer
Summary: “Myka's chest swells with affection and she draws Helena in for a hug. Helena is warm and solid against her and Myka's a little overwhelmed by her softness and the way she smells, their thin clothing not doing much to keep them apart.The lights flicker.Myka snaps to attention, releasing Helena from their embrace and taking a step back, her Agent Eyes scanning the room. She sees Helena do the same as spotlights in different colors start blinking and—”These nerds in love are looking for an artifact in a gay club. The fic features dancing, pining, serious talking, and fluffy feels.





	all we need is some rhythm to dare

**Author's Note:**

> A big thank you to [kla1991](http://archiveofourown.org/users/kla1991/pseuds/kla1991) for beta-reading and cheering me on!
> 
> Title from “Go Go” by Laleh.

The artifact is in a gay club. Or rather, it's in the hands of someone who's been visiting the club recently.

 

They're having a breakfast meeting and Artie is briefing them, going over what this artifact – a rainbow flag – can do. Working only in the hands of good-intentioned queer people, the artifact has the ability to show people with a sexuality compatible with the user's. 

 

“No more uncomfortable interactions with straight people,” Claudia reads aloud from her case file. “I can only imagine, wow, as if it's not enough not to know if the other person will like you for  _ you _ ,” she comments. 

 

“It does sound rather useful, this flag,” Helena agrees. “But there's a downside, I presume?”

 

“Yes,” Myka says, having scanned her file to that part. “When the user first touches the flag, it will work only for them, but after a day or so, all good-intentioned people in close proximity will feel the artifact's effect. That’s not so bad I guess, but if used for longer than a week, straight people will be able to spot those who aren’t.”

 

Steve and Helena both inhale audibly.

 

Artie says, “A bartender at the club, Angela, knows about the warehouse through her sister. I wasn’t informed who this sister is, but she works for the warehouse organization in some way and chose her sister as her ‘one’. Anyways, Angela noticed something odd the day before yesterday. In her words 'the lights were off but very on'. When it happened again yesterday, she found a way to notify us.”

 

He goes on, “Hopefully, that means the artifact user will be there today as well, and that you have four days to snag and bag the flag before things turn bad. I think it will be visible, so you should be able to handle it in much less time than that.”

 

“Um, okay,” Myka says. “Who's going?” 

 

“I thought of Steve,” Artie answers, nodding to him. “But for the sake of the case, it might be helpful if whoever is going could pose as a gay couple. Just in case a cover is needed.” Why a cover like this would be needed, he doesn't explain. Instead he turns to Claudia, saying, “This is one of the reasons why you can't go as Steve's partner for this case, and Pete—” 

 

“—will not be affected by the artifact yet,” Pete fills in. “Which means I'm less likely to spot the user. What a bummer though, I'd be a great fake partner to Steve. I mean  _ partner _ partner.” He wiggles his eyebrows meaningfully, puffing his chest out. 

 

Myka shakes her head at him. “Helena and I will go,” she says.

  
  


//

  
  


Helena enters the club staring like she wants to soak up every detail. 

 

“That flag was  _ large! _ In the window! Everyone could see it!” she exclaims. Since they haven't gotten further inside than the entryway's coatrack, where the music can be heard only as a muted trickle from the dance floor up ahead, Myka's not the only one who hears her. A few heads turn, and the person behind the desk makes a face as Myka pays the entrance fee. 

 

“This is all new for her,” Myka says by way of explanation, smiling at the person whose face turns understanding. 

 

There had been some gawping from Pete when Myka announced she'd be going with Helena. She's a little surprised by this, Pete's pretty good at noticing things. But heteronormativity really can be blinding, so maybe it wasn't that weird. 

 

Claudia and Steve had both looked unsurprised by her announcement, as had Artie. And of course Helena had known. Helena had known since the first day they met, Myka's pretty sure. Just as she had known about Helena. 

 

How they'd known, she’s less sure about, but there'd been  _ something _ , right away, telling her. A vibe, maybe. Myka doesn’t get vibes the way Pete does, but she’d had a feeling. In addition to that feeling, she still remembers clearly how Helena's eyes had raked over her body, how she'd let her fingers “accidentally” stroke Myka's as Myka had put her in cuffs, how she'd moved and spoken and—

 

Right now, Helena isn’t paying the people looking at her any notice. She’s still drinking in the view, speaking quietly, close to Myka’s ear, “I didn't mean anything work-related by that flag observation by the way. I don’t think that’s the artifact.” 

 

Her breath is hot against Myka's cheek, and Myka's own breath comes out in a puff. She gives Helena a smile as she replies, “I figured,” while her stomach flutters wildly. Helena has such an effect on her—being friends that can't touch each other the way Myka wants to touch Helena right now is going to be hard. It's been hard for a long time.

 

There had been a thing between them, right from the start. Myka knows this, and she knows Helena knows as well. She hadn't been imagining, but she did wonder, after Helena's betrayal, if she'd been played. If Helena had noticed her interest, her attraction, and decided to exploit it and use it to her advantage. 

 

Helena had mentioned it once, later, much later. After Yellowstone, after the bomb in the warehouse, after the hologram nightmare, after Helena's long absence. 

 

They'd talked when Helena came back. And Helena had mentioned it, without Myka bringing it up. She'd said, “I liked you, right from the beginning. I was intrigued, entranced, by the way you held yourself, the way you behaved. I am sorry that I misused your trust the way I did, I'm truly so, so sorry, Myka.” By this point, she'd taken Myka's hands in her own and looked into her eyes. “I did care about you. I always have.”

 

It had taken some time to forgive, and she’ll never forget, but Myka wants Helena in her life. Helena is important to her, and to finally have her back as a friend, to be able to be in her presence without the strained, hurt tension that had been between them feels good. Really good.

 

Myka's been thinking, more and more lately, about the possibility of turning their friendship into something else. A romantic relationship. She thinks – knows – that that's what she wants. She's wanted Helena since she first met her, but then—

 

“Do you feel anything?” Helena says now, and Myka does. She's certainly feeling things. Helena's got the ability to make Myka go from shaking her head fondly at her adorable nerdiness to being weak in the knees in just a second. Sometimes it's even Helena's excitement over new things that  _ makes _ her weak in the knees. 

 

“I don't see any odd lighting,” Helena adds, and right –  _ right _ – the case.

 

“I don't either,” Myka says. “Nothing looks or feels out of the ordinary. The person using the artifact must not be here yet. I guess we'll go inside, check the place out, and hope they show up?” 

 

Helena nods. She's removing the coat Myka found her in when she came out of the motel bathroom after changing and fixing her hair. They’re in Minneapolis, having spent the early evening eating dinner and resting in the room they got for the night, waiting for the club to open.

 

Myka has to stop herself from gaping when she sees Helena’s outfit: a thin, tight, black tanktop, the top of her breasts covered only by a black lace ribbon, matched with wide, black dress pants. Helena asks, “Did I get the dresscode right this time?”

 

Myka gulps. “Yeah,” she manages, bobbing her head. She herself has on a black, see-through t-shirt with a black bra visible underneath and tight, dark red pants. They look good together – almost matching – she thinks, when her ability to think has somewhat returned. 

 

Despite seeing her dressed up before they left, Helena is now giving Myka a slow once-over, looking from her boots to her hair that falls loose and curly over her shoulders. She meets Myka's eyes as if she's about to say something, then shakes her head instead, smiles, and holds out her hand for Myka to take. 

 

Myka looks at the hand for a second before taking it, wondering what this means, if it means anything. 

 

She wants to know, before she acts on her feelings, how Helena feels about the thought of the two of them being involved. Myka knows Helena finds her attractive, but finding someone attractive and wanting to pursue a relationship with them isn't the same thing, and Myka would prefer to find out what Helena wants without making what they already have awkward. Now there’s a hand in hers, and she wants to know what that means. 

 

They walk side by side, seeing the foyer open to a dimly lit bar on the right, a large dance floor on the left, and some tables in the corners on both sides. The speakers are angled towards the dance floor, making conversation by the tables and the bar possible. 

 

Helena's looking around with wide eyes, in a way reminding Myka of a small child who might just float away if not for the hand she's still holding on to. But holding Helena's hand doesn't feel at all like holding a child's hand. 

 

Turning to face Myka after her eager look-around, Helena says, “I frequented a few places like this back in the day.” She's gesticulating wildly with her free hand, in a way that's frankly  _ dorky _ , if Myka's going to describe it. “Covertly of course,” Helena continues, “and this is what I wanted, what I  _ expected _ , for the future. But after my arrival, finding out, seeing… well, you know...” she trails off. 

 

“It's good to have a free zone,” Myka agrees gently, squeezing the hand in hers. 

  
  


//

  
  


Since they didn’t see or feel anything artifact-y when entering the club, and suspect the artifact user hasn't arrived yet, they decide to case the place while trying to blend in. It wouldn't be ideal to have the person carrying the flag turn around at the door.

 

“I'm Angela,” the bartender says as she's taking their orders. They're working, which means they're both going for non-alcoholic options, but Myka might have done so anyway. She's chosen to cut alcohol out a lot since meeting Pete, and found she's fine without it.

 

“And you're the agents?” Angela questions, giving Myka her root beer. Myka wonders what had tipped her off, wonders if everyone in this place can spot them. But Angela was expecting Warehouse people to show, and that combined with her deductive nature (she  _ was _ able to recognize an artifact) was probably enough reason.

 

Myka studies Angela while she's busy behind the bar. Moving with an easy sturdiness about her, Angela is a short, white-haired woman, by Myka's estimate in her early fifties. She's got a nose ring, a crooked smile, and speaks in a low-timbered voice. Myka thinks she's cute. 

 

Angela winks at Helena as she gives her her non-alcoholic cider. “There you go, honey,” she says, and how easy it looks to behave like that when you don't share a long history and a treasured friendship that could turn uncomfortable. 

 

Helena smiles in thanks and takes Myka's hand again, like she knows what Myka's been thinking. It's reassuring, and Myka feels her face break into a grin. Looking up, she sees Angela grinning back. 

 

“I've got a good feeling about you two,” Angela says. “Do you need anything, or shall I leave you to it?” 

 

“I think we're good for now, thank you,” Helena answers. “With these kinds of cases you never know exactly what to look for, but when you see it, there it is. So we'll just be here, senses open, so to speak.”

 

Myka's nods distractedly, thinking about Angela's “good feeling” and what she could have meant by that. 

 

Angela moves to take care of some other costumers, and Helena turns to Myka. “Can I try your drink?” she asks. “I don't think I've tasted a root beer before.”

 

“Sure,” Myka says, giving her bottle to Helena. 

 

She watches as Helena puts the tip of the bottle to her mouth and darts her tongue out for a quick lick. Then Helena’s lips close around the rim and she tilts the bottle to take a sip. 

 

Myka’s looking at Helena's mouth, Helena's lips,  _ Helena _ , who's now humming and nodding. She swallows and lowers her eyes, her own mouth suddenly dry.

 

“Good,” Helena decides. 

 

Myka breathes, and  _ wants. _ She's thought about kissing Helena before. Been close to doing it as well, but tonight, tonight it feels as if it might actually happen. Myka puts the bottle to her own lips, touching the rim where Helena's lips had just been. 

 

They stand by the bar in silence for a bit. Helena is people-watching now, and Myka is thinking, imagining, wishing. 

 

As they finish up their drinks, Myka decides she's done thinking. “Let's dance,” she says, putting down the empty bottle and taking Helena by the hand, leading her to the dance floor. 

 

She starts moving languidly to the music, hips with a slight sway, shoulders slowly rolling. 

 

Helena is watching her carefully, noticeably trying to copy Myka's movements. She stands out, her dancing not looking quite like the other clubbers', but still good. Helena's a good dancer, and she's quickly picking up more modern moves. 

 

Moving closer to Myka, Helena looks into her eyes while letting one of her hands reach out and stroke down Myka's bare arm. Myka shivers. 

 

Helena licks her lips.

 

“Myka! Hi!” someone yells in Myka's ear. She turns around, and there's Amy from middle school.

 

They hadn’t been close back then, just classmates who sometimes shared a table at lunch, and Myka hasn’t really thought about Amy since. She does remember Amy wanting to move to Minneapolis, now that she thinks about it, but hadn’t considered she might meet her here. 

 

“Hello,” Myka answers, not as loud as Amy, maybe not loud enough to be heard over the music, but it's easy to guess that's what she's saying. She's trying to look happy about meeting an old almost-friend, but she's really not. On top of that, surely Amy can't be here to pick up women, she must be here with a—

 

“I'm here with my friend Dan over there!” Amy loudly proclaims, pointing to a man in tight black pants; his short-sleeved white shirt open to show his bare chest. “Suuuuuuuch a good dance floor in this club, don't you think? Me and my girlfriends love it!” she continues. 

 

Myka sighs. Straight people. She's trying to find something, anything, to say when Helena cuts in, almost yelling, “Girlfriends? You're seeing more than one woman? Good for you!” And this is  _ fantastic _ . Helena is fantastic.

 

Amy's face goes from confusion to looking insulted, her expression showing she can't decide which thing to correct first. She doesn't have time though, before Helena barrels on, “Although that's not for me. I'm just so very happy to have found my Myka.” 

 

Myka stares at Helena, then Amy, then Helena, while Helena simply winks at Amy and kisses Myka's cheek, and Amy leaves – leaves! – with an “Oh, well, okay, good to see you Myka!”

 

Myka stumbles in place, Helena putting a steadying hand on the small of her back. “Oh thank God. You saved me without even knowing,” she says, close to Helena's ear, focusing on Helena's mistake instead of the lingering feeling of her lips against Myka's skin.

 

Helena looks at her, askance, before saying, mouth to Myka's ear, “Oh Myka, I didn't need an artifact to tell me that that woman isn't interested in women.” She pauses, considering, then adds, “Probably lives a safe, sheltered life and thinks this club is a 'fun time' am I right? And at your expense it seems. I couldn't have that.”

 

Myka's chest swells with affection and she draws Helena in for a hug. Helena is warm and solid against her and Myka's a little overwhelmed by her softness and the way she smells, their thin clothing not doing much to keep them apart. 

 

The lights flicker. 

 

Myka snaps to attention, releasing Helena from their embrace and taking a step back, her Agent Eyes scanning the room. She sees Helena do the same as spotlights in different colors start blinking and— oh, okay, the lights are dancing, matching the music. It's regular club lights. 

 

Helena's come to the same conclusion, relaxing beside Myka, smiling at her, and she's just so, so beautiful.

 

“Restroom,” Myka mouths, leaving Helena where she stands. 

 

The harsh light of the restroom hits her as she steps inside, and she catches a glimpse of her pale face in the mirror before entering one of the stalls to pee. 

 

She just needed to be alone for a little bit, Myka thinks as she's carefully washing her hands a minute later. A breather. She's fine now. 

 

When she exits the restroom, Myka sees Helena on the dance floor. The music's changed, and Helena's dancing close to another woman. She has  _ definitely _ picked things up. 

 

The woman Helena's dancing with is moving freely, and so is Helena. There's a lot of hips. Hips and stomach and breasts. Myka is usually good at finding her words and putting them together, but her mind is going blank. The breather did not prepare her for this. Helena is in front of her, rolling her hips and stroking her own body with her hands. Hands that are going all over. 

 

Myka's mouth is watering and feels dry at the same time. She swallows and steps up to the bar to ask for a glass of water.

 

“She's really something, isn't she?” Angela comments as she gives Myka her water, knowing what she needed before she had time to ask. 

 

“She really is,” Myka agrees readily.

 

Taking a gulp of water, Myka sees Helena catch sight of her, part from the woman she’s dancing with, and make her way towards the bar. 

 

“Good luck,” Angela says, leaving Myka to wonder if she meant with the artifact, with Helena, or both.

 

Helena's hand is warm on Myka's shoulder and her lips touch Myka's ear, vibrating as Myka makes out the words, “Dance with me again? We might as well make the most of this night while we wait…” 

 

Helena really hadn't needed to speak that close this time; the bar is not that loud, but Myka's enjoying herself and nods, both to herself (she can handle this) and to Helena, and follows closely behind as Helena moves towards the dance floor. 

 

When they reach it, Helena starts moving her hips to the music. Her eyes are on Myka as the rest of her body follows her flowing movement.

 

Myka's going along, copying Helena this time, as she moves her arms and shoulders by her sides. 

 

Helena rests her hands against her thighs, stroking them lightly. The music's fluid, drumming in Myka's ears, seemingly pushing Helena forward as she starts moving her hands, stroking up the sides of her body, back down to her thighs, up her sides again, and down. 

 

Myka is watching as Helena continues caressing her own body with her hands. Her hands are going everywhere; sides, arms, shoulders, stomach, then around to her hips and ass, eyes meeting and holding Myka's. 

 

Helena rests her hands on her hips for a minute, keeping her gaze on Myka as she takes her lower lip between her teeth. Then she starts moving again, letting her hands travel up her front, up over her stomach, stroking the sides of her breasts and closing her eyes for a second as she gently palms them in her hands. She opens her eyes to see Myka's reaction as she grabs them firmly, pushing them up and together, before releasing them and moving her hands down her stomach, down and down, separating her palms onto her thighs just a hint later than what would be considered decent.

 

Myka knows she's staring, and she's not about to stop. The nervousness she's been feeling, the need to calm herself down, has transformed into pure enjoyment. Myka's letting go, letting what feels good navigate her, and this – being with Helena – feels good. Helena's dancing for her, and she's watching. 

 

Then Helena's suddenly closer still, her hands now continuing their movement from her own body over Myka's. She goes up her arms, over her shoulders, all while holding Myka's eyes with her own.

 

Her fingers travel down Myka's arms, and as Helena's proceeding up Myka's back, Myka moves her arms to rest against Helena's shoulders. Helena goes down her spine slowly, stroking the curve of Myka's back and stopping there, palms resting lightly, hotly, against her lower back. 

 

Myka's breathing heavily, her heartbeat seeming louder in her ears than the music around them. They're close, very close. Eyes locked, mouths barely a breath apart. 

 

She thinks Helena has stopped moving her hands, but then she feels how she's slowly, very slowly, going lower, keeping her eyes locked with Myka's, gauging her reaction. 

 

Myka's heart is in her throat, beating, beating, beating, as Helena's hands keep moving lower until they're cupping Myka's ass. 

 

Helena stares at her and bites her lip, hard, then releases it and takes a shuddering breath. There's desire in her eyes. Clear, hot, glowing desire. 

 

Seeing Helena like this is turning her on so much Myka can hardly keep herself on her feet. Her lust is pulsating, beating in time with the music.

 

She shifts their legs a bit. No longer hip to hip, Myka nestles one of her thighs in between Helena's, pushing closer to her and then up. 

 

She sees it more than hears it, how Helena's suppressing a groan, eyes rolling back in pleasure, mouth falling open, fingers tightening around Myka's ass.

 

Myka moves her arms from Helena's shoulders, stroking Helena's arms as she goes to place her own hands on top of Helena's. She pushes down for a second before taking Helena's hands in hers and moving them, together, so that she can turn around in Helena's arms. 

 

Her back now against Helena's front, Myka moves her ass from side to side, placing Helena's hands on her hips so that they move in tandem. 

 

She can feel herself throbbing with arousal, wetness coating her underwear. Helena is breathing hotly against her neck, lips so close Myka can feel them against her skin. 

 

The lights flicker again. 

 

It's different this time. No colored spotlights are switching on. Instead, something she can't quite put her finger on is happening. There's a faint smell of fudge in the air. 

 

If you weren't looking for something strange, you wouldn't notice, but Myka has been looking. Mostly, she's been looking at Helena, but she's a good multitasker. 

 

Helena must have noticed, too. She has stilled behind Myka and is looking around as Myka turns to face her. 

 

The room goes completely dark.

 

It lasts only a second, and when the dim club-lights turn back on – there it is. 

 

Some people are suddenly clearer. That's how Myka would describe it. Some people have faded from her view, while some are brightly shining. 

 

Helena is radiant. Myka can't look away from her, getting lost in glittering eyes for a while, before work slides its way back into her mind as another light catches her eye. 

 

It’s not a person this time, but it’s  _ on _ a person. The person is tall and androgynous, standing by the entrance, surveying the room. And from their pocket, a coin-sized light is shining like a beacon.

 

Helena has seen it too, Myka gathers, as they look from the person by the entrance to each other, sharing a nod before moving towards them. 

 

The person manages to look both calm and on edge as they approach. 

 

“You're here for the flag?” they ask. Their dark brown skin is glimmering with a golden hue in the combined club and artifact lights, and they've got a very kind face.

 

“You knew?” Myka asks in response, surprised by this reaction. 

 

Looking Myka and Helena up and down, the person answers, “I’ve been thinking someone else must know about it. Feel it, maybe? And trace it to me.”

 

“Mmm,” Helena says, “like magic.” 

 

“Yes. That’s what it is, isn’t it?” Sky questions. 

 

“In a way, I suppose,” Helena agrees, smiling.

 

It’s sweet, but Myka’s getting antsy from seeing the artifact-beam, so she says, “May I see the flag?” and snaps on a glove. 

 

People around them have started murmuring, moving around, looking at each other quizzically. The atmosphere is loaded with tension and uncertainty.

 

The person hesitates. “How do I know I can trust you?” 

 

“Well,” Helena says, extending her hand, “I’m Helena.” 

 

“I’m Sky,” the person says, taking Helena’s hand with a contemplating expression on their face, and then Myka’s, as Myka extends her hand and says her name.

 

Helena says, “We work for a place handling dangerous artifacts like the one you’ve got.”

 

“Oh.” Sky ponders this for a bit, then says, “You’re not like the people I'm using the flag to find,” regarding them carefully, “but I like you. I want to believe you.”

 

They're young, Myka thinks. Maybe too young to enter a club, but she's not going to be the one to stop anyone from entering a space where they can be themselves. 

 

“I’ve always known magic exists,” Sky says then. “Or, well, I’ve wanted to believe. And I don’t know what it is about you, but you seem reliable.”

 

“Thank you?” Myka says. 

 

She and Helena share a smile. 

 

“You’re a couple, aren't you?” Sky asks. “I saw you looking at each other as I walked inside. You look happy together.”

 

Myka doesn't know what to say to this, but Helena replies easily.

 

She says, “Myka does bring happiness to my life.” Her voice is steady, certain, and her eyes are shining as she turns to look at Myka. 

 

Myka is suddenly breathless.

 

Helena’s candor makes Sky open up as well. “I want what you have,” they say, looking between Myka and Helena. “I've had some not great experiences while getting close to people before. Even 'open-minded' people aren't always that good with this whole gender thing, you know?” They’re gesturing to their body, and Helena's tearing up, Myka notices. 

 

“I can only imagine,” Helena says. “It’s not the same, but I knew someone once, a long time ago. I thought of her as an ally, but she turned out to have a real problem with me being who I am.”

 

Myka says, “People can be terrible when they encounter things they don't understand.” 

 

“Yes,” Sky agrees, looking down, biting their lip.

 

“That doesn't mean you should have to put up with it, or need to explain yourself,” Myka adds, and now Sky is looking a bit teary-eyed too.

 

“Do you know what the flag does?” Helena asks.

 

Sky nods.

 

“Then you’ve noticed that in the beginning it worked only for you,” Helena continues, “but now it’s affecting people around you as well?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

Myka says, “If we don’t take care of it, the next stage is that straight people will be able to tell who isn’t.”

 

“ _ Shit, _ ” Sky breathes. “You better take care of it then.” 

 

They reach into their pocket, picking out a tiny flag, and Helena pulls a static bag out of her back pocket. 

 

Myka's ready with her glove on and takes the flag, telling Sky to cover their eyes as Helena opens the bag and Myka puts the artifact in it.

 

“Oh,” Sky says in quiet wonder as they all watch the last sparks die down. “Cool.” 

 

People in the club are instantly back to looking like their usual selves. No-one's faded or shining bright, and as everyone's noticing this, their voices are rising above the music, asking about what happened. 

 

The music is turned down and Angela’s voice is heard from the speakers.   
  


“Tonight, we’ve had a special art light show. Let’s give it up for The Fudges!” She starts clapping, and as others join in, the tension that’s been surrounding them dissipates. 

 

It’s clever, and the emotion-filled night coupled with Myka’s relief over the solved case makes it incredibly funny for some reason. She feels a giggle rising in her chest, and looking at Sky and Helena, the giggle escapes her. It’s contagious, and soon all of them are bending over in fits of laughter.

 

Sky seems to be in a good mood, despite having given up the artifact. As their breathing returns to normal, they say, “I might…well I hope…” Their gaze strays towards a girl sitting by a table nearby.

 

The girl's looking over at them, meeting Sky's eyes and smiling. 

 

“You found someone you like?” Helena asks. 

 

“Maybe. I’ve seen her here before.” Sky looks down, smiling bashfully. “And now I know she'll react well when I approach her. That's a good start.” 

 

“It is,” Myka agrees, eyes crinkling with her own smile. “Good luck.”

 

“Thank you,” Sky replies, “Bye, then?” 

 

“Stay safe,” Helena says, squeezing their shoulder.

 

Sky nods to them both and starts walking towards the girl. 

 

Helena turns to Myka, murmuring, “A bit of air?”

  
  


//

  
  


Outside, the night air is cold against Myka's cheeks. She rests her back against the building's wall, pushing her hands into her front pockets.

 

Helena is in front of her, shifting on her feet, before she too leans against the wall, eyes forward.

 

They stand in silence for a few minutes, both thinking. 

 

Finally breaking the quiet contemplation, Helena says, “That was—” before cutting herself off.

 

“Yeah. It was,” Myka agrees. 

 

“One last dance?” Helena suggests then. 

 

“One last dance,” Myka echoes.

 

Her desire from earlier has calmed, but Myka still wants to be close to Helena, as close as she can be.

 

Inside, a slow song is playing, and Helena's swaying in her arms. It feels so _ good  _ to be with her. Helena is soft and lovely, but also firm and very real, and to finally embrace her like this after such a long time feels almost like a dream. They're barely moving, mostly holding each other, Helena's head resting against Myka's shoulder and her hands lightly clasped around Myka's lower back. 

 

Myka breathes in Helena's scent, wishing she could prolong this, but as the song ends, she reluctantly loosens her hold of Helena, stroking her bare arms as she does so, not wanting to end their contact. 

 

Helena looks at her like she might be considering leaning in to kiss her, but instead she takes Myka's hand in hers again, and they walk together towards the exit. 

 

In the car on their way back to the motel, the thought at the forefront of Myka’s mind is  _ why didn’t she go for it? _ and then,  _ why didn’t  _ I _? _

 

She’d wanted to kiss Helena, and it had seemed like Helena wanted it, too. 

 

They’ve been here before, though. Not here, exactly, but things have been simmering beneath the surface for a long time, and still neither one of them has acted on their feelings. Was this night going to become another instance adding to the “what if?” that tinged her relationship with Helena? Would things go back to how they’d been before tonight? Would Myka  _ let them _ ?

 

She ponders the thought that Helena might be holding back because she doesn’t know how Myka feels. Could Helena be afraid that Myka would reject her?

 

Helena seems deep in thought as well, when Myka chances a look at her.

 

When they arrive back at the motel, Helena lets her use the bathroom first. The water is nice and cool on Myka’s face, and she brushes her teeth, trying to clear her head and decide what to do. 

 

Clothes changed to comfy plaid pajamas, Myka sits cross-legged on one of the single beds in their room, hugging a pillow tightly to her chest. It’s Helena’s turn in the bathroom and Myka’s going through the events of the night in her mind.

 

When Helena emerges, Myka has decided. 

 

The butterflies inside her stomach are intensifying, bustling around inside Myka as she rises and takes the few steps to the door Helena's closing behind her. 

 

Myka steps close, intimately close, to Helena. Looking into her eyes, she says, “I need to know, Helena, what do you want?”

 

Helena breathes out, meeting her eyes with an earnest look.

 

“I want you, Myka, I want to be with you,” she says, voice unwavering.

 

Myka exhales slowly, her eyes shining with happiness as she cups Helena's face in her hands, thumbs stroking her cheeks. The air between them gains a sudden charge as she leans in and lightly touches Helena's lips with her own. They are as soft as she's been imagining, warm and gentle. 

 

Leaning back, she watches Helena's eyes flutter open, her lips parting.

 

“This is what you want as well?” Helena queries, amazed.

 

“Yes,” Myka answers, and Helena kisses her again. Firmly this time, wrapping her arms around Myka's body, holding her tight. 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr as [wibblywobblyida](http://wibblywobblyida.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Also, if any of you are from Sweden, kom och säg hej!


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